


the spring when i was raised, the spring when nothing changed

by hitogatas



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Angst, Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2020-12-17 12:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitogatas/pseuds/hitogatas
Summary: On an evening just like any other, the members of HE★VENS find themselves lost and afraid when disaster strikes against their usually warm and pleasant home. They quickly realize that the man who had always been willing to die protecting them needed someone to protect him in turn, and now they all need each other more than ever as they fight to save him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry about this, it's a lot darker than the content i usually write lmfao,,,, i just really needed to get it out of my system  
i love eiichi a lot, i find him extremely relatable and because of that i have a tendency to project onto him. i’ve been struggling a lot with severe suicidal and self-injurious thoughts recently, so take this as a vent fic if you will.  
trigger warning for attempted suicide. please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to this subject, and take care when reading my works.  
title is inspired by a song by the GazettE

The apartment is so quiet that the gentle _thud_ that rings out is enough to make all of them flinch.

It’s a typical night, an hour to midnight, with each of their work obligations fulfilled for the day. Nagi has gone to bed at ten as per usual, Shion at nine. Eiichi announced his decision to go to bed himself not too long after Nagi did - atypical of him, as he never takes his leave from the living room until all the other residents of the dorm have, but they all figured he was just particularly tired from work that day, and opted not to question it as they bid him a good night. Now it’s just the four of them - Kira at the piano, idly plucking a few keys, Eiji cleaning the kitchen from their earlier dinner of udon, Van cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through social media, and Yamato on the floor in front of him, huffing to himself as he completes another round of push-ups.

The thud is so benign, yet so jarring, that the three seated members immediately put their tasks to a halt and point their heads in the direction of the sound. Yamato lowers himself to the floor completely before pulling himself up, putting an elbow behind his head and pulling it with his free hand. “The hell was that?” he mutters, not one of them missing the twitch in his blonde eyebrow that signifies some form of concern.

“Maybe one of Nagi’s plushies fell or sum’n. I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Van hums before going back to his phone, but there’s a bit of unsureness.

“Plush toys… are not that loud.” Kira voices what each of them are thinking from his position at the piano. His fingertips lightly graze the tops of the keys but he hasn’t returned to playing.

“A book then?” Van offers with a slight smile and a quirk of his brow.

Eiji frowns, then peels off his rubber gloves and tosses the damp sponge he was holding onto the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna go check what it was.” He heads towards the stairs, the others’ eyes following his movements as the young man makes his way up to the second floor, waiting until the padding of his socked feet is no longer audible to return to their previous tasks.

Not even five minutes later, a blood-curdling scream slices through the silence of their shared living space - a scream that can only be identified as Eiji’s. The three of them have never heard such a sound from sweet, gentle Eiji’s mouth, but they just know. If they thought the crash from before had disturbed them, this time Van’s phone actually slips from his hands, Kira’s hands slam down onto the piano keys, and Yamato flinches so hard that he can no longer retain his position, his robust body crashing onto the carpet instead. Kira is removing himself from his stool in seconds, and Van offers a hand to Yamato, who grips it unyieldingly to hoist himself up before the two of them follow Kira up the stairs.

The door to Eiichi’s room is open, casting a dim orange light through the otherwise completely dark hallway and illuminating the figure of a pale, trembling Eiji. The rustle of frantic footsteps catches his attention, but only for a brief second, as he turns to his friends, then snaps immediately back to whatever he sees through the open doorway that is so terrifying. As if he physically can’t look away. Tiny black pupils sink into violet eyes. He swallows thickly. “C-Call an ambulance.” His voice is wavering, but it’s not the way Eiji’s voice usually shakes, not the typical pre-show jitters or the frantic ordering of his older brother to stop speaking whenever Eiichi begins to tell one of his embarrassing stories about Eiji as a child. This is different. This is Eiji threatening to break.

“Eiji, what-”

“Call a fucking ambulance, _now_!” he screeches, not allowing Yamato to finish his sentence. Warm tears are now carving into his cheeks, which are red like apples from all the screaming he’s done. The three others look amongst themselves, lips parted and brows furrowed as none of them know what the fuck is happening, but knowing enough that they should be worried right now.

Van gulps, his Adam’s apple pulsating. “I left my phone downstairs. I’ll… go get it.” He tries to sound helpful and like he’s on top of things, but his own voice is threatening to break. Yamato and Kira give him a nod, and Van bounds back into the living room. He passes Nagi and Shion’s rooms on his way down, and doesn’t miss the whining of Nagi, who is peeved to have been woken up at such an ungodly hour, or the gentle sobbing of Shion, who no doubt is scared by all the loud noises, too scared to even set foot outside and see what caused Eiji to scream so loud. It makes his chest hurt. He makes a mental note to go comfort them once the paramedics have been contacted. For now, there are more important things to be done.

Once Van leaves, Yamato and Kira come to Eiji’s side with no hesitation in their movements. If whatever it is in there has shaken up their dear Eiji so much, neither of them are sure they want to see it, but they know they have virtually no choice. A simple glance to the ground has them both understanding why Eiji screamed so loud.

Eiichi is lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the wooden floor with both his arms out in front of him, his fingers limp but still curled, as if they had been holding something before. His glasses are askew, still resting on his face but bent due to the pressure of the floor against him, and Kira’s even sure he can see a tiny crack running through the lens closest to the ground. What all three of them find the most shocking, though, is the clouds of bubbly white foam that spill from Eiichi’s mouth and dribble onto the floor, and the bottle of morphine that lays on its side just inches from Eiichi’s hand. The bottle is open, and its empty innards say it all.

Yamato is a strong man, a strong person, but he feels his stomach turn, and tonight’s dinner oozing back up his throat. He swallows thickly to subdue it. The last thing he needs is to escalate the situation, and vomiting in front of everyone, in front of Eiichi’s _motionless_ (he isn’t sure if the d-word applies yet, and if it does, he still wouldn’t want to use it) body, would certainly do just that. Quivering, he takes a step towards Eiichi, then two, then several more until his bare feet are right next to the man’s ribcage. He’s almost tempted to nudge Eiichi with his toes, but he doesn’t think he can handle it at the moment. This all feels unreal to him.

The athlete is startled from his thoughts by the scampering of footsteps as another party joins them. “Alright, I called an ambulance, all I said is there’s an emergency but they’re on their- holy _shit_.” Yamato isn’t even looking at Van but he can clearly imagine the look of shock crossing the older man’s features.

Eiji is sobbing by this point, tortured cries pouring out of him like a dam overflowing, and he slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle it, but his wails of grief still slip through the cracks between his fingers. Drool pools in the palm of his hand and slides down his chin but he doesn’t care to wipe it off.

Yamato does the only thing he can think to do, which is crouch down next to their leader and pick up one of the limp wrists between his thumb and forefinger. He worked as a lifeguard for a brief period of time before working as an idol, so he knows how to go about these types of things. With a staggered breath, Yamato presses his fingers to the inner corner of Eiichi’s wrist, then waits a few seconds, holding his breath.

When he feels a twitch beneath the skin, he sighs.

“He still has a pulse,” he concludes, looking up at the other three. Eiji is still crying, a combination of snot, tears, and saliva streaking down his face, and Kira has him in a tight embrace, one arm locked around the shorter boy’s waist as the other traces circles into his back with his palm, his chin resting atop the crown of Eiji’s head. Yamato can tell from the way the golden irises flit away from him as soon as they meet that Kira is trying his damnedest not to look at the scene directly, or he might cry too. Van’s eyes are still wider than Yamato has ever seen them, his jaw hanging open as he tries to make sense of what is happening. He isn’t even blinking. Yamato wonders if he even heard what he just said.

“See? He has… a pulse. That’s good,” Kira whispers into the soft brown hair, and Eiji nods, slowly, as if he doesn’t believe it and thinks Yamato is only saying that to make him feel better. “He’s going to be… okay. We’ve called... help.” Eiji sniffles and nods meekly, burying his face deeper into Kira’s chest, and his crying doesn’t cease, but it fades, the raw, agonized screams that were ripped from his throat before replaced with unsteady heaving and erratic whimpers.

All four of them hate this situation. They hate every second of it. The stoic, reserved Kira’s voice is uneven and his hands are quivering. Kind, polite Eiji was swearing and screaming at the top of his lungs just moments ago. The incessantly loud and annoying yet lovable goofball Van, the group’s resident mood maker, is unable to even process the situation laid out in front of him. Daring, resilient Yamato, who faces any challenge head-on and with a smile, is at a loss for what he should do next, simply staring at the lax body in defeat. It’s weird. All of it is wrong, for them to be acting like this.

Most unsettling of all, though, is their leader, their bold, confident Eiichi, crumpled on the ground, unmoving, unresponsive, barely breathing, an entire bottle of painkillers in his system and a pile of froth still effervescing from his throat. Eiichi, who considers HE★VENS to be his pride and only joy in life, and has no problem boasting about how much happiness they bring him. Eiichi, who faces all public events with the most charming smile gracing his features and looks so genuinely delighted each time he shakes an angel’s hand, or signs an autograph, or listens to an angel speak about how much HE★VENS’ music has impacted them. Eiichi, who manages the arrangement of all group affairs completely on his own, who laughs thunderously when he views his friends, his _family_, interacting with one another in their typical banter-like fashion, because he knows only _they_ can be the ones to do that. Eiichi, who has never said so outright, but they each know for a fact he would put his life on the line for them, would put himself in any sort of danger as long as each of them are safe and happy and shielded from what he deems to be the horrors of this world.

But now the four of them wonder - did he ever take any care in protecting his own feelings?

* * *

None of them ever thought the piercing wail of an ambulance siren would be a source of comfort to them, but they feel all their shoulders sag in relief when the sound approaches, even Eiji, who has not stopped clinging to Kira. Kira’s shirt has a massive wet patch from where Eiji had sunken his face into the pianist’s torso. It doesn’t bother him.

Eiji accompanies Eiichi in the ambulance, but the paramedics tell them that they can only allow one person to ride with Eiichi. Van, Yamato, and Kira agree to split up - Kira and Yamato will follow the ambulance to the emergency room, Van will stay home and console the little ones. Van offers to pay for an Uber. He’s one of two members in the house with a driver’s license; the other is currently on a cot and being lifted into the back of an emergency vehicle. Eiji has a permit, but with his hands trembling so much and his vision obstructed by the tears that just _won’t_ stop coming, it’s best he doesn’t get behind the wheel of a car right now. He’ll kill them all.

Van sighs as he slips into Nagi’s room, taking care to be quiet, though he knows there’s no point. The commotion - if you can even call it that - has no doubt woken up the poor boy, and Van's sure it wouldn’t be so easy for him to fall back asleep. He also suspects Shion has joined Nagi in his room for comfort, so he’ll thankfully be able to solace both of them at once.

Van takes a seat on the mattress, right next to the boy’s tiny frame. Massive grey jewels tilt upward to meet him, and Nagi mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep although he hasn’t been sleeping for some time. “Mm… Van?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Van smiles sadly at him, pushing a hand through the tousled salmon locks.

“What… what happened?”

“There was a medical emergency,” he whispers. “Don’t worry, Eiji and the others are taking care of it.” _The others_. He deliberately doesn’t specify his friends by name, because that would mean only listing three names. _Eiji, Yamato, and Kira are taking care of it._ Then Nagi would have to ask - what about Eiichi? Where is he? And that’s not a question Van is prepared to give him the answer to. Not yet.

“Will everything be okay?” Nagi curls deeper into himself, and Van hadn’t seen it before, but Nagi is gripping a plush penguin. Van feels a lump form in his throat.

“Yeah. Everything is going to be fine, buddy. I promise.” Van blinks rapidly to rid his eyes of tears. He can’t cry in front of Nagi. That would just make the boy even more upset than he already was. “Where’s Shion?”

“Closet,” Nagi mumbles simply, and when Van gets up to amble over to the opposite side of the room, he takes the opportunity to turn over onto his other side.

Sure enough, Shion is wedged between Nagi’s clothes and shoes, his knees to his chest and arms curled around them. Van doesn’t need to say much, simply offers a hand, and smiles crookedly when Shion glances up at him. “Come out?” he tries.

Shion sniffles, and, reluctantly, places his hand into Van’s. He’s shaking, a lot. Van hopes Shion doesn’t notice that his own hand is shaking, too.

“Did something bad happen?” Shion eventually manages, his timid voice like a falling raindrop in the otherwise silent house.

Van huffs again, fingers rubbing at the folds that manifest in his forehead when his brows knit together. There’s no use in lying, he figures. “Yeah. Something horrible happened, Shi-Shi, but…” He chews his lower lip, then looks back at the young boy, beaming at him reassuringly even though he really doesn’t want to. Part of him feels like he’s forcing the smile more for himself than for Shion. “But it’s gonna be okay. Your friends are taking care of it and we’re all going to make sure that no permanent damage is done, and that something like this will never happen again. Okay?”

His eyelids begin to droop and he refuses to make eye contact with Van - Shion’s not very skilled at eye contact in general, so Van doesn’t attribute it to the upset, not all of it at least - but he gives him a little nod, and that’s all Van needs. Confirmation that Shion believes him. That he knows things are going to be okay.

Nagi asks Van to stay in his room with the two of them that night. Van is happy to comply - it’s not like Nagi’s bed is uncomfortable or too small to fit three people, even with one of those people being a grown man, but even if it was, he’d endure it anyways. Anything to ensure that the two most vulnerable members of HE★VENS feel safer. Not to mention Van himself will probably have trouble sleeping on his own after the events that transpired tonight.

Van is in the middle of the two. Shion has an arm draped across his torso, an ear pressed to his chest so he can hear the thumping of Van’s heart, feel the rise and fall of his stomach with his breaths. Nagi, on the other hand, is curled up to Van’s side, the penguin plushie firmly placed between them to create some distance, but Nagi can still feel Van’s presence against him. His methods of cuddling aren’t as hands-on as Shion’s, it’s more subtle, but the physical contact is still _there_. Van brings a hand around both boys, his palms pressed into the smalls of their backs. His phone is still in his pocket, the ringer on at full volume in case one of the others contacts him with an update. He's going to feel bad if the sound of his phone wakes up Nagi or Shion in the middle of the night, but oh well. Some things are more important than sleep.

Before sleep takes him, Van glances down at the stuffed animal that’s currently rubbing against his arm. He didn’t notice it earlier, but Nagi’s penguin is a deep violet in hue, and it’s wearing glasses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this first half of this chapter contains a graphic description of the stomach-pumping process. if that will be triggering or disturbing to you, please skip to the line break to avoid it!

He hears the high-pitched scream of his younger brother - muffled, as if he’s underwater.

He hears a barrage of panicked voices right after, each one of them all too familiar to him even as they sloppily overlap one another.

Is this an auditory hallucination?

Is it the afterlife?

If he’s truly hearing the voices of his friends, it would mean his plan has failed.

He slips back into the realm of silence once more, but every now and then, echoing noises fade in and out like a flying insect passing him by.

Everything is dark and silent for a long time after this. Eiichi likes it this way.

When he wakes up, bright white. Blinding, bright white. It’s everywhere, it screams at him, it makes Eiichi’s eyes sting even though white is typically such a calm shade. He’s too shocked to even snap his eyes back closed, or squint or rapidly blink to help adjust them.

He’s more concerned about the tube that has somehow invited itself into his nose and is now making its way down his throat. As it slides deeper and deeper into him, Eiichi can feel it toeing the contents of his stomach. It’s unpleasant. He uses all of his strength - which isn’t much - to clench a fist in indignance.

“Nii-san!” A frightened voice from beside him. He would recognize that voice even if it was the softest whisper in a loud, crowded room.

He can’t see. Everything’s blurry. Is he wearing his glasses? Where even are his glasses? Where even is _he_?

“You’re doing really well, sweetheart. Just breathe normally.” An unfamiliar hand is placed on his back. It’s cold, but it feels calming. The honey-like voice coupled with it helps.

Sucking. A horrible, sucking sensation. _Suck. Suck. Suck._ It’s awful. It’s fucking awful. It feels like his organs are being evaporated from his body.

He can’t feel his body, all his focus is on his stomach, his fucking _stomach_ that they’re ripping apart. He must have begun to twitch and twist at some point because he suddenly feels hands clamp down against his wrists and feet, restraining him.

“Nii-san, _please_ stay still,” his brother wills him again. There are tears in his voice. Eiichi wants to stay still if it’s what Eiji wants, but he _needs_ to escape that horrid, dreadful _sucky_ feeling.

Then the sucking stops, but it’s just as quickly replaced with something far worse as an unknown substance rushes into him. It’s as if a dam has broken in his intestines and he’s powerless to stop it. The thrashing begins anew, and with more force than before.

“Eiichi! They’re just cleaning you out! Stay _still_, dammit!” Eiji tightens his grip on him, and Eiichi doesn’t think he’s heard his brother sound this stern with him in ages. In fact, Eiji rarely ever refers to his brother by name.

Eiichi claws his fingers. His eyes are wide open and filled to the brim with tears and he doesn’t even have the strength to blink. He makes a weird gargle-cough type noise in response to Eiji - it’s the only sound he really can make with this fucking _tube_ down his throat, but even if words were possible, he isn’t sure if any would come to him.

_Get me out get me out get me the fuck out of here it hurts what they’re doing is hurting make it stop Eiji please please please make them stop_

A forehead comes to rest against his temple, Eiji’s bangs tickling the tip of his ear as he leans in. “I know it hurts, nii-san,” he whispers, as if he can hear Eiichi’s thoughts. It makes the older man relax, if just a little. “Just stay calm. They’re doing this to save your life.”

_I know, Eiji. I know that this is to help keep me alive._

The tube begins to take its leave, evoking a slimy feeling as it pulls along his muscles, and Eiichi lets out a gasp for air when the last of it slips out of him.

_That’s why it hurts so much._

* * *

He doesn’t remember falling back into unconsciousness, nor can he pinpoint the exact moment he wakes up. All he knows is that one minute, he’s clinging to his brother’s wrist for dear life as someone pulls a tube out of his nose and the next, he’s in a bed, his eyes fixated on the blaring ceiling light above him. He’s never been this fucking tired in his whole life, his limbs feel like doll parts from how weak his muscles are and it’s so difficult to keep his eyes open that his eyelashes must have tiny weights on the ends of them. He doesn’t dare close them, though. Closing them means being unaware of his surroundings, and that is the _last_ thing he needs right now.

“Nii-san?”

Eiji’s voice is soft, it lands delicately in the silence of the room like a falling drop of rain. If Eiichi had more energy, he would spring up from his bed immediately and grab Eiji, pulling him into his arms and crying and proclaiming “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” into the younger boy’s shoulder over and over again. But he doesn’t, so instead he slowly turns his head towards the direction of Eiji’s voice. Eiji is seated on a chair that doesn’t look very comfortable, but Eiichi’s sure it can’t be much worse than this fucking hard as rock, pathetic excuse for a “mattress” he’s lying down on.

Eiji smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good morning,” he whispers, words completely devoid of his usual cheerful tone. He’s clearly trying to mask the sadness in his voice - it doesn’t work.

Eiichi lets out a huff of air. “It’s not a good morning. You don’t have to pretend it is.”

Eiji chews his lower lip. He knows his brother is right, but he also seems relieved that Eiichi at least has enough energy to speak to him. “Kira and Yamato are here too.”

Eiichi shifts his eyes towards the aforementioned pair - Kira gives a curt nod, the tiny smile gracing his lips and the look in his eyes indicating that he is truly concerned for Eiichi’s well-being, and Yamato raises a hand in greeting, his eyes tired and hair even more unruly than it usually is. Eiichi swallows thickly before turning back to Eiji. “Van?”

“At home with Nagi and Shion. They were both really upset after what happened last night…”

Eiichi opens his mouth, but Eiji immediately interjects before he can get any words out. “_Don’t_. I know you’re about to say you’re sorry. But I speak on behalf of _all_ of us when I say _apologizing isn’t necessary_. You have nothing to be sorry for right now.”

_Damn it_, Eiji knows him too well. Eiichi isn’t a fool. Even if last night is a hazy blur to him, everything about the atmosphere - the setting, the solemn looks on his friends’ faces, his fucking insides hurting - is a clear indicator of what happened. He knows it’s pointless to argue with Eiji, but there are still too many things fucking eating at him. He caused trouble for the rest of his group. He scared them. He made his baby brother cry. He hurt the two most vulnerable members of his family. He caused chaos on a perfectly average and otherwise peaceful Thursday evening. He made them all go out of their way to save him from dying because he was too fucking pathetic to be able to die on his own terms. Not to mention, there’s always the risk of tabloids catching wind of what’s happened. He can see the headlines now. “Eiichi Otori of HE★VENS - Has He Completely Lost His Mind?” Potential media slander has never bothered him, it’s the risk of his actions reflecting badly on his group as a whole that sends a shudder through his spine. But he knows Eiji won’t let him get out so much as the _s_ in _sorry_. As sweet as that boy is, he’s much more stubborn than he appears.

With a sigh, Eiichi sits up, shakily as his muscles are still wobbly. Eiji notices and is immediately at his side, placing a hand on his back to steady him. Eiichi doesn’t say anything, but smiles at his brother in thanks. Eiji’s eyebrow twitches, and he sits back down once he’s sure Eiichi is fine enough to sit with his back straight on his own.

“Do you want a pillow to lean back on?” Yamato offers.

“These pillows feel like rocks. I’m fine.”

The taller boy nods in understanding, and it’s left at that.

A silence follows, the only noise being the gentle, constant hum of the hospital’s machinery. Yamato begins to bounce his leg anxiously, but Kira places a hand over his knee, halting his movements.

Eiji sighs, breaking the silence. A conversation about the events that transpired the other night has to be had, and no one wants to start it, but, well. Someone has to. “Nii-san… what _exactly_ happened last night?”

Eiichi presses his lips together. He’s always been a very direct person. He hates dishonesty. It’s one of his pet peeves. He never beats around the bush when it comes to answering questions or saying what’s on his mind, and he intends to keep that same mindset now, even though it will no doubt be difficult. “I…” He clears his throat, then begins again. “I was just… _thinking_ about things. You know I have a tendency to do that, Eiji. When there’s nothing else I can busy myself with, I just start to think about… life. Everything. And I was just…”

He looks up from his hands. Three sets of eyes bore into him, one amber, one gold, one the same shade of purple as his own, all three burning with a certain melancholy. His friends decline to say anything, just stare at him patiently, expectantly. Eiichi takes a breath. They’re waiting for him to continue so they can help. They want to listen to him, because they care.

Or do they? Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe once he spills his heart out to them all, they’ll turn away from him. Call him disgusting, selfish, ungrateful, manipulative, undeserving of the loving home they’ve so graciously provided him with. They’ll cut him out, kick him from the group and never want to speak to him ever again. Even Eiji, who has never known a life without Eiichi in it, would be revolted by him, and then the only family he would have left would be that rotten, money-hungry demon to whom he owes half of his DNA (the word “father” sounds more and more wrong each time Eiichi says it) and that one ratty stuffed animal no one else but Eiji knows he still has.

Or maybe that won’t happen.

Eiichi takes a breath and continues. “I just realized that… no matter what, I’m never truly happy. I never _have_ been happy. Yes, I experience happiness when in certain situations… like if we’re all together. Or when we’re on stage. Or when I meet a fan, and they tell me how happy I’ve made them. That makes me happy. But… there’s always this sense of… _emptiness_ within me. Even when I am happy, in the back of my head there’s this feeling of dread that never really goes away. And I’ve asked myself that. I think, _I should be happy right now. Why am I not happy?_ And I can never come up with a real answer. And then I just feel like a shit person because the universe was kind enough to bless me with the most amazing bandmates on _earth_, and it still isn’t enough for me, no matter what happens I’m just stuck in a constant loop of being dissatisfied with… everything. Life in general. Who I am as a person. And I feel like I can’t change it.

“And it just… seems like such a waste of my life. We only get one chance at life and here I am, spending mine having negative feelings all the time. Who wants an existence like that? And who wants to be _around_ someone like that? So I just figured… there was no point in continuing. And I went into my bathroom before bed, and I… found a bottle of painkillers and just… one by one I just swallowed them. I wasn’t even thinking about it as I did it, it just… happened. And I don’t remember anything after that, I just remember thinking I didn’t wanna be here anymore. I didn’t wanna be anywhere at all. So… I tried to leave.”

He doesn’t look up, his eyes firmy locked onto his hands that are folded in his lap, but he can feel all three pairs of eyes in the room on him. He clenches his fists, waiting for them to yell at him. Tell him to just get out of their hair if he really feels that shitty all the time. It would be better for them that way anyways, not like they want him around, they just deal with him because it’s part of their job. If he truly doesn’t feel happy in their home, great. He doesn’t deserve it anyways.

Except that’s not what happens. The first thing Eiichi feels is a weight pressing down on the mattress in the space next to him, then two strong arms coiling around his arms and pulling his body close. He doesn’t need to look up to recognize it as Yamato. Until this point Eiichi has never received a hug from the other man before, with Yamato usually opting for fist-bumps or noogies as a show of affection, but Yamato’s body is warm, and it radiates a sense of safety. Eiichi’s lower lip begins to shake, and he melts into the other man’s embrace.

“Shut up,” Yamato grumbles between gritted teeth, hugging Eiichi closer to himself. “None of us want to listen to you sit here and say that kinda shit about yourself. You’re a kick-ass leader and an amazing friend and if you think you aren’t either of those things for even one second, I can’t even _begin_ to tell you how goddamn wrong you are.”

The next sound that rumbles from Eiichi’s throat is a soft whimper, and then his shoulders begin to flinch up and down. Yamato’s grip on him softens, but he doesn’t let go, his hands coming to rest at the nape of Eiichi’s neck as he allows the older man to freely collapse into silent sobs.

“It’s okay. Let it all out.”

Eiji is the next to stand up, coming up behind his brother and wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses an ear to Eiichi’s back so he can hear every breath, every snivel, every soft little _thump_ of his heartbeat. His eyes are watery too, and he’s glad Eiichi is faced away from him so he can’t tell, otherwise he knows he would blame himself. “Nii-san, Yamato’s right,” he whispers. “I would never make it in this world without you. There’s no one else I would want to be my leader, or my brother, or my best friend.”

Kira joins them as well, sitting down next to Eiichi and placing his own pale hand over the brunette’s, fingertips idly rolling along the knuckles that look so much more bony today than they did yesterday. He is a man of few words, Eiichi knows this, so he doesn’t expect the raven-haired man to say anything, but just the motion is enough for him to know that Kira cares.

Eiji snuggles deeper into him. “We’re sorry we didn’t notice it before,” he laughs bitterly, no longer able to contain his tears. “You’re always taking care of everyone around you. But you forget to take care of yourself too. And you need us to be there for you. But we didn’t realize that.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Eiji,” Eiichi whispers, his voice little more than a cracked breath.

“No, nobody is to blame here. But we should have asked you if you were okay.” Eiji wipes his eyes with the back of his wrist.

“Even if… you’re always sad… we love you… regardless,” Kira finally speaks.

“Having feelings doesn’t make you a bad person, nii-san. It just makes you… a human. And you’re a human we’re all grateful to have in our lives.”

“B-But they don’t go away!” Eiichi chokes out.

“So? We’ll stand by you until they do,” Eiji says soothingly.

“You’ve… been through… a lot,” Kira murmurs. “So it’s… understandable… that you feel like your negative feelings are inescapable.”

“You’re so strong, Eiichi,” Yamato says. “You have never once let us down, and you always put others before yourself. If we had known you were hiding all of these feelings, we would have said something. We would have let you know that it’s _okay_.”

“If you wanna be sad, that’s how _you_ feel, and it shouldn’t be minimized just because you’re with us.” Eiji has taken to dragging his nails through Eiichi’s hair, something their mother would do to them when they were children. The motion comforts the older man exponentially. “We’re going to be here for you no matter how sad you feel, and when you’re done, we’ll still be here. And we can be happy, with you.”

They stay like that for a while, the four of them all joined on the thin hospital mattress, each connected in their love for one another. For Eiichi. He continues to cry quietly, but none of them try to stop him, just stay right where they are until he eventually lifts his hands to wipe his eyes, signaling that he’s gotten his fill of physical contact. Yamato and Eiji peel their arms from his torso, and Kira gives his hand one final squeeze.

“I get it now,” Eiichi concludes, his voice still thick with tears. “I have others to live for.”

“No, nii-san.” Eiji smiles at him, reaching out to flick some excess wetness from the corner of Eiichi’s eye. “You have yourself to live for.”


	3. Chapter 3

Eiichi is discharged from the hospital within the next couple of hours. Eiichi is an adult so he doesn’t need a guardian’s consent, but the staff advises on keeping him there for at least another night, despite Eiji’s practically begging them. No doubt, if he was as upset as he had been the previous night, he would be screaming at the nurses at the top of his lungs, but he has little energy left in him from the whole ordeal, and he feels much better now that he knows his brother is okay, is _going_ to be okay. So he simply pouts and directs his gaze towards the linoleum floors, the toe of his shoe dragging along the already-scuffed tiles. Yamato can tell from the quiver in his lip and the pinkness in his face that Eiji is about to start crying, and he doesn’t like that at all, so he alerts the nurse of their status in the idol industry and promises that if Mr. Eiichi Otori, leader of a world-renowned boy band and the son of the highly influential and wealthy Raging Otori, is not released from the hospital by the end of the day, the institution will be sued by Raging Entertainment.

Kira frowns at him, about to make a comment about how there is no real legal basis to sue the hospital, but the threat alone is enough for the nurse to do a complete one-eighty in her plans. She blinks up at Yamato, her features splashed with fear for a split second, and then her red-painted lips spread into a forced smile, and she says, “Well, we could always do an A.M.A., which stands for _against medical advice_…”

Eiichi is hastily handed his clothes back by an orderly. Thank _God_, because he really is not feeling himself in this oversized, paper-thin blue gown. The crinkling whenever he moves is enough to drive him mad. He unfolds the sweater he had been wearing last night, and grimaces when he holds it up to the light only to find that there are several, very noticeable patches of dried vomit around the neckline, splatters of pale green corroding the otherwise dark garment.

Kira wordlessly slips out of his own hoodie and tosses it into Eiichi’s lap. He’s wearing a T-shirt underneath, so he’ll be fine. Eiichi smiles at him in thanks and pulls the hoodie over his head. A sudden realization hits him as his face is buried beneath the fabric, and he blinks back up at his friends. He’s missing something very, _very_ important.

“My glasses?”

Eiji sighs. He knew this was inevitable. “You broke them last night. One of the lenses is cracked. I’ll take you to get them replaced.”

Eiichi laughs bitterly. “I can’t see shit.”

“Your prescription is only 1.50, nii-san. Don’t be dramatic.”

Eiichi groans, but he knows Eiji’s right.

The ride home is silent, but comfortably so. Eiji drives, since Yamato and Kira can’t, and there is now a (fully conscious) licensed driver in the car with them. Whenever the car stops at a red light, Eiichi reaches over to pat Eiji’s head, his silent way of telling Eiji that he’s doing well. That’s always been his way of congratulating Eiji. When they were children and Eiji would excitedly present a new song he had written. When he brought home a straight-A report card. When his merch sold well or his songs procured millions of hits. A tap against Eiji’s head doesn’t consist of any words, but it always means “you’re doing a good job, I’m very proud of you.” Eiji beams at him, but his eyes quickly shift back to the road ahead of him. (They’ve all had quite enough medical emergencies for one night - or ever - the last thing Eiji wants is to drive carelessly and churn out even more.)

It takes Eiji about five minutes to park the car in their garage, all of which Eiichi spends staring at his hands. His nails have been chewed down practically to the quick - he’s picked up a bad habit of biting them in the midst of panic attacks, dating back to his childhood. He doesn’t remember much of last night, but he figures he probably snacked on his fingernails as an appetizer leading up to his main course of morphine tablets. He internally snorts at his horrible, dark joke.

“Nagi and Shion?” Eiichi turns to Eiji when his brother finally turns the car off. Eiji looks back at him, their violet eyes matching in both color and worried expression as Eiji offers nothing more than a shrug.

Eiichi sighs and rubs his temples. He knows that those two aren’t children, but they are _young_. They understand a lot more than they appear to, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re impressionable and vulnerable. Oh, well. If Van has told them about what happened, then he’ll take responsibility for it. If he hasn’t, then Eiichi will make sure they never find out - those boys look up to him, he’s meant to set a good example. He no longer cares about preserving his image as “the strong one.” It’s more that if they know what Eiichi did, they might think it’s _normal_, it’s _okay_ to do that thing to oneself, and then they might -

Eiichi’s stomach starts to hurt. He doesn’t want to even imagine that.

Upon his arrival inside the front door, he’s instantly met with a warm chest bumping against his, two arms snaking around his waist. Eiichi feels his eyes and throat stinging, but swallows thickly to kill the sensation; he’s done enough crying for the day. He brings his own hands up around Van’s shoulders, and leans his head against the crown of fluffy brown hair, missing its usual stickiness from all the hair products he uses. Aside from Shion, Van has always been the most physically affectionate of his friends, and Eiichi likes his hugs the most. They’re the warmest.

“You scared the hell outta me,” Van mumbles into the skin of Eiichi’s neck.

“I know,” Eiichi responds. “It won’t happen again.”

“I’m holdin’ ya to that.”

“Mhm.”

Van pulls away after just a few more seconds, leaving with a squeeze to Eiichi’s shoulder. Violet eyes orbit the dorm, his face falling when the little ones are nowhere to be found.

Van knows what it is that Eiichi is looking for. He can always tell what Eiichi wants, feels. He’s much more intuitive than he lets on, his genuine kindness masked by his flirty onstage persona, and Eiichi wishes everyone could see it more. “They’re in the living room,” Van whispers.

Eiichi nods in thanks and ambles in that direction, his heart a weighted stone in his body.

Shion is seated on one end of the couch, his back upright and legs planted firmly on the floor rather than curled into his chest like they normally would be. Eiichi figures that the reason for this is Nagi’s head currently occupying the space in Shion’s lap, grey eyes sullen and fixated on the ceiling as snowy fingers weed through his pale pink hair.

Nagi typically rejects physical affection. He’ll stiffen up in the middle of group hugs. Any attempts at embracing him by Shion are usually met with loud protests (not that this stops the other boy). But during times when he really, _really_ needs it, he will allow himself to be held, stroked, doted on. He’ll never return it, but he does welcome it. This, Eiichi supposes, is one of those times.

Shion’s eyes flit up to meet his. They’re sad, droopy, accented with sleepless circles hanging off of them, but no matter what they never lose that little glimmer of hope, that timid kindness and wonder about the world that makes Shion… _Shion_. Eiichi can still see it now, an innocent sparkle swimming in those lilac irises even as they gloss over with tears. Nagi shifts in Shion’s lap and looks up at Eiichi as well, and he can tell from the redness haloing Nagi’s eyes that he’s been crying.

He knows now that Van has told them about what he’s done. He isn’t angry at Van, though. He’s angry with himself. It was a choice _he_ made, not anyone else, and that choice is the reason his son figures are scared and sad right now, and Eiichi hates himself for it.

“Hi,” his voice comes out in a whisper. Nagi nervously chews the knuckle of his thumb. Eiichi gulps. “I’m… I’m okay, you two. I’m fine.”

“Eiichi,” Shion starts, his celestial voice trembling. “Was… was I the reason that you-”

“No,” Eiichi cuts him off before he can finish, his voice frail and unstable. “No, God no. It had nothing to do with either of you. Please don’t think like that.”

Nagi won’t look at him. “A-Are you sure? It wasn’t my fault, either?”

The universe has _really_ decided to test him today. Maybe Eiichi won’t be able to achieve his goal of not crying anymore, after all.

“Why would it be your fault?” Nagi merely shrugs, and Eiichi reaches out to pet his hair. “Hey. You two have done nothing wrong. It was all on _me_. It was something _I_ did, not you guys, not anyone else. It was a choice _I_ made, and a damn stupid one at that. If you’re upset with me right now, you have a right to be, and that doesn’t hurt my feelings. Just please, do _not_ blame yourselves. I’m begging.”

Nagi’s tiny frame has been vibrating, as if his body is an egg sheltering some type of mythical creature that’s about to emerge. “Y… You…”

What happens next takes everyone in the room completely by surprise. Nagi springs forward, nearly knocking his skull against Shion’s with how fast he shoots out of the other boy’s lap, and throws himself into Eiichi. The older man wraps his arms around the boy before he can even register what’s happened.

“You _idiot_!” Nagi sobs into Eiichi’s chest. “You’re our _leader_, we can’t go on without you! If you were gone we couldn’t… we couldn’t even elect a new leader, since you’re the only one who can do it! HE★VENS would have to _disband_! And… and… w-who else am I s-supposed to play Mario Kart with when it’s one in the morning and I can’t sleep? And who else is gonna make okonomiyaki? Your okonomiyaki is the best, Kira’s is okay but i-it’s not the same! And…”

“Shhh. I know.” Impulsively, Eiichi plants a gentle kiss on Nagi's forehead. The younger boy doesn't flinch or complain. “I’m here now. I’ll still lead the group, I’ll still play Mario Kart with you, and I’ll make you a plate of okonomiyaki any time you ask for it.”

Nagi doesn’t respond. He just cries openly, loudly, the pained sounds swallowed into the fabric of Kira’s hoodie that Eiichi is still wearing.

Shion has started crying as well, his gentle weeping a stark contrast to Nagi’s raucous wails as tears fall silently from his face, and Eiichi scoops him into their embrace, holding both boys close to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, unable to stop his own eyes from leaking any longer. He knows Eiji doesn't want him to apologize to anyone, but what else is he supposed to do? “I’m sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry, it won’t happen again. I promise. I’m not going anywhere. I _swear_ it’s not gonna happen again.”

They stay like that for a while, both boys leaning into him and letting their emotions overflow as Eiichi rubs their backs gently. Nagi’s breathing evens out after a few minutes, but the stains of dried tears still cling to his apple-like cheeks.

“Just… promise me one thing, okay?”

Nagi nods, and Shion gives a little hum.

“Don’t… please, just, for the love of God, whatever you do, don’t do what I did.”

Nagi removes himself from Eiichi, mopping at his damp eyes with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and Shion does the same, though he doesn’t bother to dry his eyes. Neither of them answer to Eiichi’s request - no, to his _plea_. But Eiichi knows they’ve heard it, and he knows he’ll sooner rip a hole in the sky before he lets them defy him. He sees so much of his younger self in these two, and it kills him to think that their early childhoods may have been any similar to his, that they may sometimes feel the same never-ending feelings of self-hatred and despondency that plagued his teenage years. So he’s going to make sure they’re happy. That they feel safe and loved and that they can trust him with anything. Nothing is going to happen to his boys.

Eiichi stands up and pushes a hand through his hair - it’s thick with grease. He then becomes hyper aware of the layers of sweat and oil coating his body, and it makes him shudder. “I should probably go shower…”

“I’ll go with you,” Eiji calls out. “I’ll wash your back.”

Eiichi wasn’t planning on doing anything in the bathroom other than cleaning himself, but he knows why Eiji doesn’t want to let him go in there on his own. Some of it was probably direct orders from the doctors, but he doesn’t mind. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Eiji. He trusts him more than anyone else here, probably.

“While you guys do that, Kichan n’ I will make some breakfast. ‘M sure Eiichan’s starvin’ and is probably lookin’ forward to something other than gross h… _cafeteria_ food.” Van quickly stops himself before he spews the word _hospital_, but Eiichi chuckles. That word won’t offend him.

“That would be great. Thank you, Van, Kira.”

“Any requests?”

“Not particularly.”

Eiichi emerges from the bathroom half an hour later, his skin slick and his damp hair adhering to his cheekbones and temples rather than fanning out in its usual fluffy layers. He smells like his violet-scented body wash, cleansed of that unpleasant, septic hospital smell.

He puts on a pair of fresh clothes before joining the others in the kitchen, but doesn’t bother to do his hair. There’s a plate of omurice in front of each seat at the table. Eiichi’s has a heart outlined in ketchup on top of it. It makes him smile.

“I cancelled all of our work for the day,” a freshly-showered Eiji says, taking his usual seat next to his older brother. “So we can spend the day doing whatever we want.”

“Oh! We should go rock climbing!”

“How ‘bout we go see that new movie that’s comin’ out t’day? I’ve been wantin’ to see it for a while.”

“That all sounds _boooooring_. I wanna go to Harajuku!”

Eiji laughs. “I think nii-san should be the one to decide.”

Eiichi smiles softly, and plunges his fork into his food. It’s okay to want things for himself. He knows that now. “I want to go stargazing with you all.”

Kira blinks. “Stargazing?”

“Mhm. We can go at night. And I’m sure that there will be enough time in the day for Yamato to go rock climbing, and Van to see that movie, and Nagi to go to Harajuku.”

Eiji looks at him for a second, an unreadable expression on his face, and then his lips spread into a small that mirrors his brother’s. “Alright. We’ll do that, then.”

Eiichi grins. “Can you pass the soy sauce?”

“Sure.” Van hands it over.

_He feels loved._

Shion cozies up to Nagi, and the younger boy whines. Everyone at the table laughs.

_This is his family._

Yamato pours a heaping chunk of protein powder into his smoothie, and Van teases him for it.

_He is surrounded by people who care about him._

Eiji pats his knee under the table, and beams when Eiichi looks at him.

Things aren’t perfect. But they don’t have to be.

The negative thoughts are still flicking him in the forehead, tickling his ears and dancing around his shoulders. He still doesn’t want them, but for now, he’s fine with them being there. He knew they wouldn’t disappear overnight, after all.

And like Eiji said, HE★VENS will be here with him until they go away. Day by day, one step at a time, they'll work on it, until Eiichi truly feels like he's the best, happiest version of himself.

For now, looking at his friends, being here with them, makes him smile - a genuine smile, not his stage smile. And a genuine smile is exactly what he needs right now.

After all, a genuine smile is the first step to achieving genuine happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading!  
i never would have thought that a fic i started on a whim when i was having a particularly shitty night would have resonated with so many people. if you enjoyed it and i was able to make you feel something, thank you, from the depths of my heart. <3


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